Chuck vs the Hail Mary
by WillieGarvin
Summary: A short re-write of the end of Chuck vs. Sarah. I really hated that episode of the show, so I wanted to fix it.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: A brief explanation of the title for any readers not familiar with American football. A "Hail Mary" is when the quarterback throws the ball way downfield with the plan that, by the time the ball arrives back at ground level, the receiver will be there to catch it. He throws and expects...hopes...prays ("Hail Mary") that the receiver makes it there at exactly the right time. Once the ball leaves his hand, he loses all control over the play and waits, like everyone else, to see if it works. It is a high risk/high reward play. When it works out, the quarterback and the receiver are seen as heroes. When it doesn't, they are seen as reckless. As with any high risk play, it fails more often than it succeeds. In American English it has come to colloquially refer to any long-shot gamble with a high reward.

In my opinion, bringing Sarah to the red door house in the hopes that it would reverse her memory loss was a Hail Mary play by Chuck. And it failed. She didn't remember, took the glasses, beat the crap out of him, and was about to kill him when she (fortuitously) saw the carving.

What if he had more modest, less ambitious goals? Something less than a full-blown Hail Mary?

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Sarah slowly opened her eyes and focused on Bartowski. She was in an empty room and bound to a chair at her wrists. He leaned forward slightly and said, in a soft, serious tone, "Hi."

She shifted around in her seat, testing the strength of her bonds. He continued, "You were in a car accident and got knocked out. I have some painkillers and an ice pack for you. You took a pretty good bang." She looked at the folding table near his elbow and saw a small bottle of pills, a bottle of water and an instant icepack. She shook her head, no.

"OK, if you change your mind just speak up," he continued. "Look, I know you don't remember me, but we really need to talk."

"I have nothing to say to you." She had been tortured before and was certain she could handle it again. She had learned to ride the pain into unconsciousness, if need be.

Gently, he said, "Yeah, that may be, but please listen." He smiled slightly, "It can't hurt to listen, especially after all this time together."

"Our relationship was a cover, Bartowski. It always has been. You were just an assignment.

"Right. I know. I know that's what you think. See, I sort of figured that out in the intersect room you blew up. When you told me that we wouldn't hurt anyone else with the Intersect. When you told me that Quinn had explained everything to you. So here's the deal, Sarah. I'm not going to tell you Quinn is a liar and try to convince you that I'm telling you the truth. I'm going to try something different. I'm going to tell you what's happened to you since you lost your memory. I'm making guesses here, but most of them are pretty good guesses, I think. Please jump in at any time to help me, OK? Let's see how I do."

She scoffed, "This is nonsense, Bartowski. Don't think it will stop me from killing you when I get out of these ties."

"Yeah, OK. So let's see," he seemed completely unfazed by her threat. He continued to speak in a calm, soft, even tone of voice. "Sorry about the ties, by the way. But I didn't want you to kick my ass while we were talking. Anyway, here goes. Sometime in the last few days you woke up. Things felt weird, disjointed. You were confused. You couldn't remember how you got where you were. It wasn't a hospital or medical facility. Maybe a safe house, maybe a hotel. But for sure, not a location you were familiar with. Not your apartment in DC. Not Langley, or Camp Peary, or any CIA facility you knew."

She looked away from him and concentrated on keeping her game face on. He was not going to rattle her so easily.

He continued. "Soon after you woke up, you met Nicholas Quinn. He showed you his CIA credentials. You don't remember him though. He's a brand new face. But he tells you he's CIA and he knows you are CIA, so that's good right? He says he's your handler. But there was nobody there you recognized. I don't know how many men Quinn had with him, but you didn't remember any of them. Not a one."

He had her attention and he knew it. He rolled with that. "So, Sarah, what did he tell you? What did he tell you about your memory?" She sat silently. "OK, my guess is he told you you had been in an accident and lost your memory. Your memory of the last five years of your life. Now, here's the truth, Sarah," his voice cracked and his eyes, which had been brimming with tears let them spill, "you did lose those five years of memories." He took a deep breath and rubbed his hand over his face. "

"Now please think about that, Sarah. Because I have. You are the smartest person I know. Bar none. Ellie … she's okay, by the way, she was wearing her seat belt…Ellie has an MD and PhD and I still think you are the smartest. Think about it, Sarah. If you had an accident, wouldn't you remember everything after the accident? But you don't. You don't remember any doctors or hospitals after your accident. No tests. No doctors. No CAT scans or MRI's. No X-rays. No medical procedures that you can remember. No nothing. Why? Why did the memories between the accident and waking up disappear? Where'd they go?"

She had done her best not to let him rattle her and failed. He made sense. Where were those memories? Why didn't she remember any doctors? A slight frown creased her forehead. His calm soft voice was confusing her.

"And then let's think about the plan, Quinn's plan. He told you that you had been undercover for five years and it was essential to send you back in, even with no memories. Send an agent back undercover without memories of the previous five years? Really? That's not a just stupid plan… _that's insane,"_ for the first time, his voice rose with vehemence. "I can think of hundreds of ways that would fall apart, including the way it did. Who would ever suggest that? You might as well ask the agent to kill herself. I knew right away that something was wrong."

Sarah thought, actually, he's right. When he puts it that way, it is a stupid plan.

"Anyway, Quinn was going to send you back undercover. Where were you going undercover? To me. He told you that for the last five years I was your assignment. That you played me like a mark, we got married, we slept in the same bed, we made love…" He had to stop again and regain his composure, the tears still streaming down his cheeks. "Sorry, sweetie, I just …"

"This is real," Sarah said. "You really do love me? …. I'm sorry... I did my job too well."

He let out a deep breath and continued, "Humm. Yeah. Anyway, he told you that you had to continue your CIA assignment to take down, what were we? Terrorists? Rogue spies? Whatever, doesn't matter. Bad guys. And you just took his word for it. A man you'd never met before in a location you'd never been to before. No confirmation from any other source. Just him, telling you a story."

"You're wrong, Bartowski. There were video logs of me making reports. He showed me my own log. Me, from 5 years ago, explaining my mission, explaining that you were my target. Doesn't get more solid confirmation than that."

"Video logs? I didn't…OK. Makes sense. Ok. Yeah, he showed you the first one. Maybe the second. Probably not the third and definitely not the fourth. You see, you were assigned to me by Graham.."

"Who you killed," interrupted Sarah.

"No, who Quinn says I killed. Anyway, Graham assigned you to find out why Bryce had sent me an email. Beckman assigned Casey for the same reason. By the end of the first day we were working together. Quinn couldn't have shown more than the first log or two. After that we were a team. Your log would have reflected that."

Now she really was rattled. He really was describing what had, in fact, happened. "OK,: he began again, "now let's summarize. You wake up in a location you don't recognize, are approached by a man you don't recognize who tells you you have lost five years of your memories and gives you a crappy explanation as to how and why. He's sending you out into the field against a really bad man who killed the Director of the CIA and thinks you are his wife. The only confirmation of any kind is a log entry or two from five years ago where you tell yourself you have to look into this Bartowski guy. That about sum it up? Did I miss anything?"

"I…I…," she didn't know what to say. Her mind was reeling.

Chuck thought, ok, time to bring out the big guns. "Sarah, I hate to say it, and I know it will upset you to hear this, but Jack Burton's little girl got conned."

Her head snapped up and her eyes went wide. Shock gripped her hard. He knows about my dad? He knows about my childhood? He knows about the cons? What the hell? She would never in a million years tell a mark any of that information.

Chuck continued, "Yeah. I know about your dad. He calls me 'schnook'. But that's not so bad, he calls Casey 'cop-face'" Despite herself, Sarah had to bite back a laugh. It sure does sound like her dad. "Sarah," Chuck reached out and lightly touched the back of her hand, "your dad paid for our wedding." Seeing the look on her face, he said, "No, he really did. You remember that big pink piggy bank you gave him as a kid? Well he never took a penny out, but kept putting money in. He gave it to you to pay for the wedding. You keep it on a high shelf in the closet in our bedroom. I'm surprised you didn't find it when you were searching the apartment for the Intersect."

Her face softened noticeably.

He held up his phone, and said, "I can't actually call him, because I don't know his number. But if you want to talk about our wedding, why don't we call Carina, she was one of your bridesmaids. Let's ask her if I was just an assignment or if you really fell in love with me. Or Zondra? Oh, yeah…Amy was the mole and Zondra was innocent. We figured it out and Amy's now in a federal pen. Zondra was also a bridesmaid. She can tell you. I spoke to them both yesterday. They were worried sick since Quinn kidnapped you."

"He kidnapped me?"

"Yeah, the last time you saw him you threw him out a window of a speeding bullet train in Japan. He survived, sonofabitch has nine lives, and turned the tables on us. He got you into one train car with Casey and me in the next. Then he separated the cars of the train, leaving us behind. The next time we saw you, you had come back to us under his command."

"Anyway, your friends and dad will vouch for me and what I'm telling you. But you should really talk to your mom."

ohgodohgodohgod

She bucked in her chair as if she had received an electric shock. "You know…"

"Sure, Sarah," in the same soft voice. "I know about your mom…and Molly. Don't worry. They are safe. Ryker is dead. He found out about Molly and came for her. But he underestimated you. You see, when he knew you you always worked solo. His plans depended on that. He didn't count on the fact that you now had a team – Morgan, Casey and me – to back you up no matter what. A team that had your back. Your mom and sister are safe, sweetie. No one will hurt them. I think your mom likes me," he gave her a lopsided grin. "Molly too. I know she likes Morgan. He lets her win at video games. At least I think he's letting her win. Maybe she's just beating him." Again, with the lopsided grin.

Her head was spinning. She believed him. She had tried to kill him. Threatened his sister. Her mind was truly blown. Could this really be real? Could this be her husband…for real? This was her life?

"Sarah, Quinn is a bad guy and we have to stop him. If you don't believe me yet, I'll put General Beckman on the phone. Surely, you would trust her over that…"

"Watch what you say, Bartowski," said Quinn from the door to the room, his pistol pointed toward them, "you might hurt my feelings."

Chuck stood up, his body covering Sarah as he stood, keeping both hands behind him. "Given half a chance, Quinn, I'll hurt a lot more than that." Slowly, without moving his arms, he took a folding knife from the back pocket of his jeans.

"Well, you aren't going to get even that sort of a chance. Give me the Intersect."

"Quinn, you know the Intersect won't work without a Governor. It will drive you insane." He opened the knife one-handed, timing it so that the sound of the click was covered by his voice, and passed it to Sarah's bound right hand. "You will lose your memories, like Sarah. We should destroy it. It's brought nothing but misery."

"Don't lecture me about the Intersect, Bartowski. I know everything there is to know about it. I'm going to take it, kill you and kill that puppet of a wife of yours. I'm rather proud of myself for that one, by the way. Erasing her memories and sending her back in to steal the intersect for me. I knew you'd never suspect your own wife until it was too late."

The sound of sirens startled them all. Sirens which were getting louder by the second.

Behind him, Sarah said, "Chuck"

Chuck immediately stood to the side and the knife flew at Quinn burying itself deep in his shoulder. Quinn staggered back, but didn't go down. He raised the gun to point it at Sarah. As he pulled the trigger, Chuck lunged in the way. The bullet caught him high in the chest and the force of it knocked him back into Sarah, still bound to the chair. As they tumbled backwards, Quinn took the glasses and ran out of the room.

"Chuck? Chuck?" Sarah used her free right hand to cast off the remaining ties and roll him off her. "CHUCK? Please.." She sounded a little panicked.

The sirens were stopping in front of the house. "M,okay," mumbled Chuck. "Vest. Run, Sarah. They're coming for you. Run"

Without another word, Sarah sprinted out of the room and down the stairs. As she was bolting from the house, she spotted the carving on the door frame.

SARAH + CHUCK

She instantly remembered. She remembered carving that with Chuck. Oh God, it was real.

She ran.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I had planned this story to be a one-shot, but so many of my reviewers asked me to continue it that I started to give that some thought. It's impossible to fix those last two episodes and the more I might try the more I would leave canon altogether and sail off into AU land. If I had my way, those last two wouldn't even exist. But it did occur to me that the two crucial scenes in the balance of Chuck vs. Sarah sucked. (I'm ignoring the scene where Chuck is being comforted by Ellie and Devon. That was fine.) Let's see what I can do.

OK, so obviously I don't own Chuck, but if you do own Chuck, please raise your hand. Right, for those of you without your hands raised, you can move on to the story now. For those of you with your hands raised, put your hand down, you look silly. Now go make a Chuck movie. You can come back to the story later. It will be here.

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Casey walked up to the clerk at the reception desk and asked, "You have a Sarah Bartowski staying here?"

"Yes," said the clerk. "She's registered under the name Walker again, but she's here. Just came back in. One moment and I'll get her on the house phone for you."

"No." Casey removed his old NSA credentials from his jacket pocket and flashed them to the clerk. "Just give me a key to her room. Do not call her. You understand me?"

The clerk nodded his head, his Adams apple bobbing as he swallowed, fear prominently displayed on his face. He handed Casey the room key with the room number scrawled on the envelope. Casey smiled his most charming smile. The clerk went pale and almost started to tremble. _Man up, skippy_ , thought Casey.

Casey was very, very angry. Sure, he was angry at Quinn, but he was also angry at Sarah. She had been talked into it. All her actions over the last day were the result of that. That douchenozzle Quinn had convinced her that he was a good guy and they were bad guys. How could she have let that happen?

Moments later he was outside Sarah's room. He heard her moving around inside. _Knock or don't knock?_ , he thought. He decided against knocking. The key clicked, he opened the door and walked in.

She was in the process of putting clothes into a suitcase on the bed and looked a little frantic. Before the door was even closed behind him she had a large hunting knife out and faced him with a stern warning expression. She didn't attack, or shift her grip on the knife for throwing, though. She just stood there, tense and waiting.

"Figured I'd find you here. You can put the knife down. I'm not here to fight," he growled.

"Then why are you here?" She was cool and, seemingly emotionless, but he knew she had to be a wreck inside. Chuck had filled him in on the conversation they had just had. As much as she might hide her emotions she now knew that Quinn had duped her. She wouldn't be happy.

"To find you. You wanted me to find you, right? Hell, Sarah, this is the first place I looked. You are way too good a spy to take off on the run and then go home, for chrisakes. If this is your idea of disappearing, Quinn damaged a hell of a lot more than your memories. It's obvious you wanted to be found." Some of his anger and frustration bled into his voice, which was never soft in the best of circumstances.

Still holding the knife towards him, she said, "I'm getting out of here right now."

"Well, you should check and see how long Quinn paid for the room, I guess. But you don't have to run. Chuck called off the NSA team that was looking for you. You're not being hunted by anyone."

"He did? I mean, he can do that?"

"Yeah, he can do that. He explained to Beckman that you aren't on Team Quinn anymore." Casey ignored the knife and walked past her to look out the window, deliberately showing his back to her, a physical demonstration that he did not consider her a threat, nor pose one himself. She lowered the knife. "You really don't remember." It wasn't a question. "Goddamn kick in the guts. And then you went and believed Quinn's bullshit? What the hell, Sarah? You're smarter than that."

"That seems to be a common opinion," she said ruefully.

"And a seduction mission? For Sarah Walker? Yeah, seduce a guy right into the grave maybe. You hate those. You told me you used to avoid them like the plague. You should have known something was off. And a five year seduction? Five year? With a marriage too? That's nuts. Even the CIA would never do that to an agent. An agent would either go insane or be co-opted by the enemy. Well, any agent but Mary Bartowski, I guess. Maybe die from an ulcer."

"Who?"

"Story for another day, Sarah. You thought we killed Graham? The man you were sleeping with, the man you were having sex with, killed Graham. How did that not strike you as ridiculous? What the hell were you thinking?"

"I...I...I was confused." She looked embarrassed, maybe even ashamed.

"Still confused? I see you packing. I don't know where you think you are going to go, but you seem to be taking Quinn's stuff with you."

"What?"

"Quinn's stuff, Sarah. You were kidnapped with just the shirt on your back. You didn't even have a coat on. Everything here. Everything. From your panties to your toothbrush, is from Quinn. All your real stuff is at home with Chuck. The only real thing you have is this." He walked over to the table by the window and picked up her wedding ring. He held it out to her at eye level, so she could see it clearly. The double meaning of his statement hung in the air for long moments of silence. Staring at it like it might explode, she ever so slowly reached out for it and took it from him. A single tear escaped her eye and rolled down her cheek. She held the ring tightly clenched in her hand. When he saw the tear, his anger at her evaporated as if it had never existed.

"Sorry," he said with a sigh, rubbing his hand over his face. "I shouldn't have yelled at you. You're the victim. It's just …. frustrating."

She looked at him hard for several moments and finally said, "You aren't what I expected, Casey."

He grunted and said, "What do you remember about me?"

"Your reputation mostly." She dropped the knife on the bed. "Unfriendly, unforgiving, and unquestioning about your orders."

He chuckled, "People said the same about you." He grew somber again. "Well, five years ago, they might have. We changed, you know. Chuck changed us. We used to be hard..."

"Did he soften us, Casey? Did he soften you?"

"We were … hard...we were brittle. Why do they think they don't make knives out of cast iron? It's because it's too hard. We were broken and we didn't even know it. Chuck fixed us...just by being Chuck. We became better than we'd ever been before. Stronger. More resilient. Individually and as a team. Sarah, I know you don't remember, but the things we accomplished...the things we did...any one of them would be the pinnacle of a great spy's career. And we did them every week, it seemed. We stopped," he waved a hand towards the window and the city nightscape. "Los Angeles from being vaporized by a rogue nuke. And then we..."

"I don't remember," she interrupted, sounding despondent.

"I know, Sarah. And I can't tell you how sorry I am. You were the best spy I ever knew and the best partner I ever had. God help me, even Grimes is integral. Together with your husband, we have been unbeatable for the last five years. Absolutely unbeatable."

"We were friends? You and I?"

He looked at her deeply for several seconds and said, "I walked you down the aisle." He could say something like that and make it sound like he was dressing down a recruit on Parris Island.

He took a CD from his jacket pocket and threw it on the bed. "Chuck told me Quinn showed you your mission logs. I thought you should see them all. Let me know when you finish. You know where to find us."

With a nod, Casey left her to watch her own reports.

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Sometime later Morgan crossed the courtyard of Echo Park heading towards Chuck's apartment. He saw Ellie's door open and waited patiently for Ellie and Chuck to say goodnight and Chuck to reach his own door. His heart was breaking for his buddy. To have Sarah lose her memory and revert to stone-cold-killer-Sarah was horrifying. He believed with all his heart that they would find a way through it, but in the meantime he knew he had to do something to help Chuck, even if it was just to distract him.

He was just about to step out of the shadows when he heard Sarah call, "Chuck?"

"Sarah?" asked Chuck. She slowly crossed the courtyard to stand in front of him.

"I just wanted to tell you that I believe you. I believe everything that you've told me about us, ...but...the truth is, Chuck, I...just don't feel it. Everything you've told me about us, I just don't feel it." Morgan was stunned. Those were the cruelest words he could ever imagine. He didn't know whether to scream in anger or burst into tears.

"Right...right, of course. I...I uh..I don't know what I was expecting, you know? So what are you doing here, then?" said Chuck. He was on the verge of tears and looked like his heart was being ripped from his chest.

"Well, I wanted to say sorry for everything that happened today. But most of all, I wanted to say goodbye." _Oh God, no_ , thought Morgan. _No, no, not again. Not again_.

"Where are you going?"

"Quinn took away my life and, well, I have to go find him... Goodbye." She left him with a tiny smile and turned away. _No_ , thought Morgan, _No, NO, NO_.

Chuck managed to say, "Goodbye" but it sounded more like a sob than a word.

Sarah turned and walked decisively toward the gate. She didn't look back.

Not even really aware of what he was doing and more frightened than he'd ever been in his life, Morgan stepped out of the shadows and stood in her way.

"No."

She stopped and looked at him. He saw that her eyes looked a little shiny, but those same eyes narrowed dangerously and she said, "What?"

"I said, no, Sarah. No. You aren't leaving. I'm not going to let you leave...I'm Morgan, by the way...I know the whole memory loss thing ..believe me, I know."

"Get out of my way, Morgan."

"No."

From behind her, Chuck said, "Morgan, please, if Sarah..."

"Sorry, Chuck. I need you to stay out of this. You are, as the spies say, emotionally compromised. In a really big way."

"Morgan..."

"Quiet, Chuck," Morgan spoke with calm authority, despite his fear. "Sorry, Sarah. I know you want to leave, but you can't. Leaving right now would be a huge, huge mistake. I'm not a complete idiot. I know that you can knock me out or kill me or whatever before I would even see you move. I'm sort of counting on the fact that you won't. So that's it. You can't leave."

"Why?"

"Look, Sarah. I was... a very different person when this whole spy thing started. I've changed over the last few years. You have changed me. Casey has changed me. Being a part of Team Bartowski has changed me. I've learned about our responsibility to each other, to the other members of the team, even when it is really hard to do. I've learned about what it means to be on a team that's as close as family...closer than most families...we would, any of us, do anything for each other and we've proven that time and time again. Sarah, I'm talking about the deepest kind of loyalty imaginable."

"Morgan, I understand what you are saying, but I don't remember it. I don't remember any of it. I can't be expected to show you loyalty if I can't even remember your name."

"You misunderstand me, Sarah. I wasn't talking about _your_ loyalty to _me_ , I was talking about _my_ loyalty to _you_. You are my teammate and my friend. You are the wife of my best friend. I owe you this loyalty, and more, hundreds of times over.

"Sarah, I had the Intersect in my head. Maybe it's out of your head by now, maybe not, I don't know. What I do know is that I not only had memory loss, not as bad as you, but memory loss, I also had the added problem of acting like a total douche bag. There was one person on my side. One. One person who was there for me and helped me through it. That was you, Sarah. You did that for me when my mind was messed up by the Intersect. Chuck and Casey thought it was just my inner jerk coming out, but you are the one who gave me the benefit of the doubt. I know you don't remember it, but that's what happened.

"That's only one of hundreds of reasons why I can't let you make this huge mistake. Sorry, Sarah, you can't go."

Morgan sensed a huge presence next to him and there was Casey, arms crossed over his massive chest, staring at Sarah without expression. He grunted. "Grimes is right. You aren't leaving. Figure out a plan B."

"I'm going after Quinn..."

"Great," growled Casey. "Sounds like fun. We're on it. Where do you think we should start?"

"Guys," she spoke hesitatingly, seemingly unsure where she was heading. "I'm not the teammate you remember... I only remember how to be solo...I'm not good with a team..."

Morgan spoke up, "Yeah, actually, you are. You are very good with a team. You are very good with this team. It's like riding a bicycle. Even when something doesn't come back to you, we will be there to get us to the next step. We support each other ...especially when wounded, and that's what you are. You are wounded."

Casey picked it up, with a grunt "You've seen your logs by now. This is the best team the National Security establishment can produce. We aren't official anymore, but we're still the best. We'll find Quinn and take care of him and we'll do it together. You can count on that."

She turned to look at Chuck. He still looked like he might cry at any moment, but he gave her a small reassuring smile. They held each other's gazes for what seemed like an eternity as she debated with herself.

Turning back to Casey and Morgan she said, "Ok."

"Excellent," said Morgan with a huge smile. On another man, the smile might have been triumphant., but from Morgan it was simply happy. "Give me your car keys and I'll bring your bags in."

"No bags."

Casey grunted questioningly.

"I stopped by a Good Will bin on the way here and donated everything." She paused and looked at Casey meaningfully. "Almost everything."

As Sarah turned and began to walk back towards Chuck, Casey reached out and touched Morgan's arm, stopping him from following. He laid a heavy hand on Morgan's shoulder and squeezed gently (well, gently for Casey, anyway). He silently held Morgan's gaze for several moments and nodded once. Morgan nodded in return. Neither man had said a word, but Morgan understood what was being conveyed and was deeply moved by Casey's gesture.

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A/N2: I understand that the script writers had a limited amount of time to get the CD to Sarah with her old logs and that the payoff of that scene was her hearing and seeing first hand the development of her love for Chuck. But really, guys, Casey would never have acted as cold to Sarah as he did, memories or not. Not after the prior five years.

Once I found this site, I began to devour the Chuck fan fiction focused on the last two episodes and their aftermath, because I wanted to find any alternatives you smart and imaginative folks could come up with to that horror show. One of them had Morgan stopping Sarah's departure in the courtyard. Unfortunately, I can't remember the name of the story or the author. If memory serves, and that's a shaky proposition, Morgan's rationale was Sarah's marital duty as Chuck's wife. I have obviously taken a different path. But, thank you to that author whose name I have forgotten.


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